


Playing Dirty

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Mind Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was well and truly trapped, and he hated every second of it.</p><p>"You're taking advantage of the situation," he snarled at her. "Revenge, perhaps, for the things I said in that glass cage they built?"</p><p>"That would require I actually care about what you said," Natasha replied, voice cool and neutral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Dirty

Asgardian spells kept Loki inside the cell, and the sigils were worked into the walls with silver and gold, hammered into place with dwarven skill. Additional spells had been painted onto Loki's very skin, stripping him of the mask he had worn for so long. He had blue skin and red eyes, raised scrollwork on his face, chest and arms. His hair was still black, and he leveled a baleful glare at Natasha when she entered the cell. Loki lunged toward her, but the sigils inscribed on his skin and in the walls of the cell prevented him from using any magic or harming any living things. He could take out his fury on inanimate objects, but could not even use them to harm living things.

He was well and truly trapped, and he hated every second of it.

"You're taking advantage of the situation," he snarled at her. "Revenge, perhaps, for the things I said in that glass cage they built?"

"That would require I actually care about what you said," Natasha replied, voice cool and neutral. He raised his fist, but she didn't even flinch as it approached. The magic made the fury in his move rebound on himself, and he was thrown backward against the spelled walls. She was emotionless as he howled in pain and rage, knowing full well that he was humiliated and hated being seen as weak by others.

She approached and lifted him to a sitting position. Loki watched her movements warily, then licked his lips. "What do you want? Come to stare at the _freak?_ Add more to the tortures?" he asked, loathing thick in his tone.

Her hand was flat against his chest. Instead of regal scaled armor and spells of protection worked into braided leather, he was in a plain black shirt and unremarkable black trousers. He didn't look like a prince anymore, and Natasha's eyes raked dispassionately across his form. "Do we have to play that game?"

Loki grinned, red eyes flashing and teeth starkly white against the blue of his face. "Don't we always play a game, dear spider?" he asked in his oiliest tones. "Aren't there always masters pushing and pulling, giving direction?"

"So who's your master?" Natasha asked, arching an eyebrow. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her hand, and there was a stuttering lurch at the word _master._ Fear, she supposed, seeing the slight dilation. That and the mention of torture told her much, as well as dispassionately looking over whatever surveillance footage that had been salvaged from the lost base Loki had decimated with the Tesseract. Natasha leaned in close, giving him a mirthless smile that was full of sharp teeth. Her fingers curled, nails scratching across the skin of his chest. He bucked slightly, skin sensitive to her touch.

"You have no concept of the true vastness of the cosmos," Loki responded, making no move to push her away. He didn't have far enough to move backward if the spells interpreted that as potential damage to a living being. His voice conveyed his sarcasm and lack of respect for her intellect, even if she had tricked him once already. "You don't know magic or the reaches of dimensional travel."

Natasha slid her hand from his chest to his abdomen, her nails scratching lightly through the thin fabric of the shirt. Loki sucked in a breath, and her impassive eyes took it in. "Perhaps not, but you do. You know who sent the Chitauri. You know who pushed you through the gate and ordered you to destroy this realm."

Loki's eyes flashed in anger. "I do not follow orders!" he snarled. "I am my own master! I would be a _king_ over you foolish mortals, and you will bow and obey my command."

She didn't back away, didn't show any fear or concern. If not for the spells, Natasha was sure he would tear out her throat just to prove that he could. She rubbed at his belly with her hand, expression calm. "But this is a different time, Loki," she reminded him. Her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of the trousers he wore loosely around his hips, startling him. Her fingers were cool against his skin, but as a frost giant it didn't bother him at all. "This is not a place where you are king, is it?" she asked, voice low and collected. She didn't break eye contact at all, and let herself seem disinterested in what she was doing. "Someone else is pulling your strings, Loki. I don't imagine you enjoy knowing that."

"What do you want, mortal?" he asked, lip curled.

Her hand closed over his cock and she gave it an experimental stroke. Loki's lips fluttered slightly as he struggled to control himself. Apparently, without the spells holding his Asgardian appearance in place, he was overly sensitive to touch.

She was used to playing dirty, and had no qualms about using this against him.

Natasha leaned in close, lips hovering an inch from his. "Tell me what's coming," she said, her voice now a low purr, like a lover's caress. "Tell me what happens when your master pulls your strings. What's coming next through the gate?"

Loki looked at her face, then started laughing. "You think this will change anything? You think will make your ledger any less red? You're dripping with blood, foolish girl. It will never come clean, never be erased. This won't change anything."

"For me, no. But perhaps some of your crimes will be held in the balance." She stroked his cock, lip curling slightly when it leapt against her palm. "And it will let you cut some of those strings tying you tight. Because they _are_ tight, I can tell. Why raze a planet you intend to rule? Why massacre the ones you want to worship you?" she asked, her voice a soft croon. She moved slightly so that her lips were next to the top of his earlobe. Her lower lip brushed against the cartilage and she continued to slowly stroke his cock. "No, that was someone else's command. It wasn't your idea. You fence with words and skill, with magic and trickery, with cunning and intellect. The army wasn't truly yours. You pointed it in a direction like a clumsy weapon because it wasn't something you made. It wasn't really your plan, and that was why it failed. You didn't create it."

He shuddered in her grasp and slowly closed a hand over her throat. He didn't squeeze; the spell allowed his hand to rest against the hollow as long as he didn't cause harm. Loki sucked in a shuddering breath. Experimenting a bit, he shifted his hips and grasped her arm with his other hand. It wasn't hard enough to bruise, and that was allowed. A bit more pressure and his hand was thrown off. "I can still touch you," he rasped.

Natasha pulled back, amusement in her eyes. "You think I'll let you?"

Loki was about to make a scathing retort when she rolled her palm over the head of his cock. Instead, he made a soft whining sound and nearly sobbed at the jolt of pleasure that shot through him. He had felt nothing but pain for so long, he had nearly forgotten what physical pleasure felt like.

"Tell me, Loki," she purred, withdrawing her hand. She made a great show of licking her palm and rocking back on her haunches, her gaze unwavering. "Even trade."

"Filthy whore," he sputtered, feeling a chill enter his bones. This was precisely the kind of trickery he would have done in her place. They were entirely too similar for comfort.

She didn't react to the name, and simply sat there, waiting.

Almost unwillingly, names and plans unspooled from his lips in stuttering gasps. Natasha leaned forward, her hand down his trousers again, and she worked him to a frenzy as he clutched at her slim waist and gasped against the rise of her breasts. It was the closest thing to comfort he had in so long, and he knew it was wrong and that he was being used but couldn't stop himself from giving in to it.

Loki was surprised when she gently laid him down on the floor when he spent himself into her hand and shuddered against her. She cupped his face, the one he abhorred so much, and let her lips curl slightly. He couldn't tell if she was mocking him or not. "Thank you for your cooperation," she told him, bowing her head slightly.

Then she was gone, and he was left alone again.


End file.
